


I Want You to be Happy

by lvmehtme



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Statutory Rape, Stiles' Stepmom's a Bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvmehtme/pseuds/lvmehtme
Summary: Stiles' dad has finally founds someone and the way he looks at her like she hung the moon and the joy in his every smile after all these years is worth everything that she does to him in the dead of night when no one's looking.I'm giving everyone a fair warning right now, there's statutory rape and psychological trauma in this fic. It ends happy, but it does get graphic. Please proceed with care.





	I Want You to be Happy

**Author's Note:**

> Again, as a warning, things get dark, there's pretty graphically detailed statutory rape but I have sectioned it off with bold, italics, and underlined words so you know exactly where the most graphic scene is. Please, if this is triggering to anyone, do not read this. Thanks.

For the first time in eight years, John Stilinski is a happy, satisfied man with a beautiful woman by his side and a wonderful son who loves him. Every day he looks forward to the moment when he gets off of work at 5 to go home to his loving wife and child. After Claudia had died he didn’t think that he’d ever get to experience this kind of happiness again, but then, out of nowhere, Lou Anne had shown up in a wave of Texas heat and warm smiles and his heart had beat double like it hadn’t in so long.

One year, three months, and twenty-six days after their first meeting his son was his best man at his and Lou Anne’s wedding and he cried an honest to God happy tear as he kissed his beautiful bride under a shower of snow white rose petals. He didn’t notice the grim face set on his son’s face. He didn’t know of the dread settling in his son’s heart. And he didn’t know of the pain on his son’s skin as he blissfully kissed his happiness on the lips.

For Stiles, the arrival of Lou Anne was completely and utterly unexpected. His dad had come home one day looking like he was floating on cloud nine and he thought that maybe he’d finally gotten all his paper work done and he’d been able to have a relaxing day at work. But then he’d come home the same the next day, and the next, and the week after that. It wasn’t until two months after that day that he found out the real reason behind his father’s sudden happiness, not that he minded at all that his father was happy. What he’d minded was the blindsided feeling he got when his father nervously opened the front door to a tall, blonde, Texas-accented woman with big blue eyes and laugh lines on her rosy cheeks.

In reality, he could see why his father had fallen for the lady. She was beautiful and full of smiles and looked at his father like she wanted to eat him. But, when a month after he’d met her, she’d turned that hungry look on him for the first time it was like a small ball of dread had sunk into his stomach. At the time it was small enough to ignore and just brush off as feeling uncomfortable that there was a woman in his house with his father that wasn’t his mom or Mrs. McCall who he and Scott had been trying to set up forever so that they could finally be real brothers.

However, there was a day, two months before the wedding, on the day after his 16th birthday, that his father had been called into work, so he was at home with Lou Anne who had started living with them only a couple weeks ago.

“I bet you look just like your father used to when he was your age. So… _scrumptious_.” She said in her southern drawl.

He suppressed a shiver and just shrugged, focusing on the television instead of her. There was the clack of heels on the hardwood until they were muted by the carpet and suddenly there were hands smoothing down his shoulders and over his chest as she leaned over him, pressing her bosom to the back of his head.

“Yeah, I can feel the similarities. The shoulders, and the chest.” She purred, and he squirmed, trying to get out from under her groping hands.

“Uh, I’m just gonna go up to my room and, uh, do homework! Lots of homework to do! It’s almost the end of the school year and you never know what surprise tests are waiting for you!”

Stiles hurried out of there as quickly as he could, feeling like he needed to take a scalding shower to get the feeling of her hands off of his skin and the moisture of her breath off of his ear and neck.

And that wasn’t the end to it. Nothing ever happened while his father was home, it was usually only on the weekends when he couldn’t hang out with Scott and he had homework to do that things got weird with Lou Anne. Things escalated until she’d taken to slipping her hands under his shirt and up his chest or settling a hand on his thigh and rubbing and squeezing, all in the name of “bonding so we can be a close, happy family” whenever his dad wasn’t home.

“Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?” Stiles asked quietly, a week and a half before the wedding while Lou Anne was out in the garden.

“Sure son, what is it?” his father asked distractedly.

“Is it normal for an older woman to touch her boyfriend’s kid so they can ‘bond’?” he asked tentatively.

His father frowned and looked at his son who was squirming a bit uncomfortably. “Well, that depends. Lou Anne sometimes says that there’s a sort of feel for family and I know that she’s quite tactile when she loves someone. Is that what you’re talking about? Does it make you uncomfortable? I can have a word with her if you’d like.”

Stiles blew out a breath and nodded. “Yeah, thanks dad. Maybe I’m just not used to having a woman in the house anymore, but it was just kind of weird for her to touch me.”

His dad smiles, nodding in what he thought was understanding. “Sure, thing kiddo, I’ll talk with her. Just try and look at things from her point of view too, alright? She’s in a new place with the people who are going to be her new family. She’s just trying to fit in and become familiar with you.”

Stiles nodded but didn’t day anything else, thinking that things were finally going to get better.

But things didn’t get better. Two days later, while his dad was at work, Lou Anne came into his room and gently shut the door, a small smile on her lips but an otherwise blank expression on her face.

“Stiles, I just wanted to have a word with you. Now, your father tells me that I’ve been making you uncomfortable, and I don’t want that at all.” She says as she slowly walks towards where he’s perched on his bed with a school book in front of him. “I just want to feel happy here with you and your father. Where I’m from, family is all about being close with one another, really close and since you’re going to be my son I want to know you. I plan on making your father happy, but that can only happen if I’m happy, you understand? And what makes me happy is getting to know you as much as I can.”

A cold sweat breaks out all over his body. Lou Anne lowers herself onto his bed in front of him, knocking his books to the floor as he does.

“Now, I’m going to get to know you and you’re going to get to know me, so that your father can be happy. You _do_ want your father to be happy, don’t you? After all these years of suffering alone, without love, don’t you think he finally deserves to be happy with a woman he loves? You can do that for him, can’t you?”

The heart in his chest feels like it’s going to beat its way out through his throat at what she’s saying.

“I… Can’t that happen a different way? I mean, you can get to know me without touching me. I talk a lot! I’ll tell you everything you want to know!”

A frown and a pout take over her expression and she shakes her head. “You’re just not getting it. Families need to be tactile! To have a familiar and loving _touch_! You’d do _anything_ to keep your father happy, wouldn’t you? I mean, think about it, if I don’t feel welcome here it’ll put a strain on things until I just might leave, and your father will be alone and lonely and miserable again, all because you don’t want to be tactile. You remember how he was after your mother died, don’t you? You don’t want him to be that way again, do you?”

Stiles stared at her in horror. Would she really make his father suffer just to get what she wants? And from the cold, calculating look in her eyes the answer was absolutely, 100% yes, she would. And just like that, the fight went out of him and the triumph lit her eyes like a cold, unending fire.

“Don’t worry, you’ll _love_ it.”

~

Stiles couldn’t put into words how much he did _not_ love it. In fact, when she was through with him, he curled up and sobbed, hugging the blanket up over his naked, flushed body. She’d only used her hands but there was a promise of darker, scarier things in every word she said and every move she made.

And things did get worse, and scarier, and much more painful as she escalated what she was doing until the day of the wedding. He took solace in the knowledge that he was going to the McCall residence for two weeks while his father and new stepmother were on their honeymoon in Mexico.

“Dude! Two whole weeks of just me and you and Call of Duty and Far Cry and Fortnite! Man, how are you not as excited about this as me?!” Scott cried as he bounced around Stiles when they finally got to the living room.

Stiles smiled at him tiredly, “Dude, I’m stoked. I’m just tired from the wedding and everything. It took a lot of planning and stuff.”

Sweet, oblivious Scott accepted his words as truth and skipped right on to the next subject, completely overlooking the pained way Stiles walked after him. Melissa didn’t miss it though.

“Stiles, honey, you doing alright? You’re walking kind of funny. Did you get hurt somewhere?”

Panic, bright and searing, exploded in his chest and he had to do his best to school his expression into one of nonchalance.

“Nah, my feet just hurt from standing so long at the ceremony and then dancing at the reception. It took hours!” he said with false cheer.

Melissa looked a little suspicious for a few seconds, but Scott called down to him from the top of the stairs before she could say anything else. Stiles beat a hasty retreat and for the rest of those two, glorious weeks he allowed himself to be healed by Scott’s care and attention and his absolute refusal to think about what was going to happen once Lou Anne got home.

~

But those two weeks did end, and with its end the return of Lou Anne and everything she’d been dreaming up while she was away. Each night his father worked late shifts she’d come into his room, have him remove his clothes, and would start with touching. _Everywhere_. Then she’d put her mouth on him and make him touch her in any way she wanted. As if that wasn’t enough, his body would betray him every single time she would touch him intimately. He’d get hard and would have to hold back his sobs otherwise she would pinch, dig her sharp nails in, rake them down the soft parts of his belly or legs, or would turn him over to spank him like a “bad little boy”. Once she had him on the brink of orgasm she’d hold back, edge him, keep him there until he was red in the face and gasping and would finally ride him to completion.

It left him feeling empty and used and so dirty he couldn’t stand being on that bed and would often dart off to the bathroom to throw up then shower and finally climb into the nest of blankets he started using as a bed after the first few time she’d violated him. He always made sure he was up and in his bed before his alarm each morning so that she didn’t know he was using his closet as a hideout. He didn’t want her violating that place too.

~

Then his father comes home, and Stiles, who’s sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the television, sees the sheer joy on his father’s face when he comes in the door and is greeting by the image of his loving wife and son waiting for him after a long day of work and suddenly, it’s worth it, to see that joy again. Just knowing that his father is finally getting the happiness he deserves after all these years makes everything that has happened and will continue to happen to him worth every minute of it.

“Hey pops, how was work?” Stiles asks, smiling brightly as his father.

“The usual. Loads of paperwork and some drunk and disorderlies, nothing major.”

“Cool, cool. Well, I’m gonna head up to my room to prepare for school tomorrow. Goodnight!” He hears his father call a goodnight followed closely by the higher, more feminine goodnight and he feels sick in his stomach.

He’s just barely gotten into his room when the police scanner he keeps in there crackles to life and he knows his father hears the same thing on his radio attached to his uniform he’s still wearing downstairs as they call in the finding of half of a dead body.

~

Scott’s not thrilled to be dragged out the night before school starts, but hey, Stiles needs this! It’s been months since he’s done something asinine like this and it’s the perfect thing to keep from being cornered by his stepmother while his father’s out. So, he drags his best friend out into the middle of the woods to find the other half of the body.

~

To say things get crazy from there is an understatement. However, he’s grateful for the sudden appearance of werewolves and running for his life because it means that he’s not home where his stepmother could get her claws into him, literally. It just goes to show how truly fucked up his life is that he’d rather spend his time around creatures who could literally claw him to death than with the woman waiting for him at him with claws far less deadly but far more dreadful than any supernatural creature.

However, not all things are terrible with the new discovery of the supernatural. Sure, werewolves are scary but when he thinks about it, Derek’s just another dude and so is Scott, who he’s known his whole life, and honestly, it’s good to be hanging out with other people. Other people who are not waiting to do nasty things to him in the dark that he can hardly think about. And it’s good.

Well, that is until he realizes that his life-long crush on Lydia is suddenly tainted with revulsion every time he hears her high pitched, feminine voice which coldly condescends him, or when he sees her painted nails and voluminous bosom. It’s actually easier to be around Allison whom he finds out is a werewolf hunter’s daughter and could put an arrow through him as swiftly as she could put one through a tree, but she scares him less than the more feminine females around him. She’s tough with an edge of no nonsense and that helps him relax a little, although not a whole lot.

It’s actually with Derek that he finds some solace. He’s the exact opposite of the femininity that haunts him. Sure, he’s still scared of the guy and kind of hates him, but when he’s with him he doesn’t have to worry about delicate hands tracing his skin or breathy words being whispered into his ear of things he shrinks from. No, the rough handling actually puts him at ease as much as it puts him on edge and, wow, that’s fucked up, but he needs it.

~

“So, we’ve dealt with your crazy uncle, who is actually an actual zombie now, a kanima, who’s now a messed-up werewolf, and a pack of totally nuts-o alphas. I’d say we’ve earned some down time, don’t you think? Erica and Boyd are back, safe and sound, Isaac’s finally toned down on the twitchiness, and Scott has finally started thinking more with his upstairs brain than his downstairs one. That’s a job well done! Go team Batman!” Stiles says one day that they’re hanging around Derek’s loft after things have finally quieted down after months of craziness.

“We’re not a team, Stiles. We’re a pack.” Derek grumbles from the opposite end of the couch where he’s been sitting in silence for at least an hour since the others left. “Why are you still here? Didn’t your stepmother want you home for dinner?”

Stiles squelches his panic fast, hoping that the werewolf didn’t catch it before he can say, “Yeah but I don’t really wanna. The food she makes, man, would put even you off your appetite and I’m pretty sure I saw you eat a poor bunny when we were running through the woods the other day. Which, totally gross man.”

“It’s better if you go home, Stiles. No use worrying your parents.” Derek completely avoids everything he just said.

Stiles shakes his head fervently. He’d gone home yesterday after a few days out and let’s just say that his body just couldn’t handle another round of that.

“I’ll just call them and let them know I’m staying over at Scott’s to practice for our midterms. Which isn’t a complete lie. I do need to study for them.”

“Scott’s at Allison’s. Just go home Stiles.”

His heart is starting to pick up and the false peace he’d managed to pull up is starting to crumble as he realizes Derek is trying to finally force him out of his living space, so he can be alone.

“Uh, yeah, ok then. I’ll see you later then.” He says quietly and picks up his backpack and trudges to the huge metal door.

Derek doesn’t say anything as he hesitates just long enough to give him time to call him back, but he doesn’t, so he goes. Once he’s in the elevator he blows out a breath and runs a hand through his hair. He could always go to Scott’s house anyways, Melissa would let him in even if Scott weren’t there. Oh, but she’s probably still working the night shift, so she wouldn’t even be there. Well, there’s always his Jeep that he could camp in, and once he reaches the bottom floor the idea sounds better and better until he’s pulling out his phone as he climbs into the Jeep and dials his dad’s number. It rings before going to voicemail.

“Hey dad, I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be staying at Scott’s tonight. We have midterms coming up and he is _not_ doing well in his classes so I’m going to make sure he at least knows the basics before he tries going into those tests. I’ll text you in the morning. Love you, bye.”

Stiles blows out a breath and sits there for a minute, wondering where the hell he’s going to camp out for the night without someone calling the cops on a suspicious male sleeping in his vehicle on the side of the road. Looking around he realizes that this is probably the best place to crash since it’s in the corner of a parking garage to a mostly abandon building in the middle of the warehouse district.

Stiles pulls out his books for a couple of his subjects along with the flashlight he keeps in his glove compartment and starts studying some of the materials for the midterms because he seriously doesn’t want to fail them. He hasn’t been able to get much studying done at home because of Lou Anne and he’s just spent the last, what, 6 months running from all things supernatural.

Eventually, though, as the clock ticks past midnight, his eyes droop and his mind starts shutting off so he puts away his materials into his backpack, pulls it to his headrest to use as a pillow as he leans his seat as far back as it goes. He covers himself with his sweater and falls into a light sleep, waking every time he moves, until the morning alarm rings on his cell phone.

“Fucking damn it.” He grumbles and hits at his phone until the alarm stops and he groans as he sits up. The Jeep was definitely not made for sleeping in.

His back sort of aches and he’s got a mild headache as he yawns and puts his Jeep into gear, but it’s a small price to pay for all the other pains avoided that night. He sends a quick text to his dad, letting him know he’s going straight to school for an early start and is insanely grateful that he’s taken to carrying around a change of clothes and his charger, so he can go to school without stopping by his house.

~

“Ugh, could you two please get a room?” Stiles grumbles when he stops by the loft for a pack meeting a week or so from the night he slept in his Jeep.

“Oh please, you’re just jealous you can’t be all up in this.” Erica snarks from Boyd’s side on the couch.

Scott rolls his eyes and Derek ignores all of them as he reads his book in his usual corner chair. Lydia and Jackson are curled up together in the love seat and Isaac is settled in next to Scott on the floor. Stiles is on the other side of the couch, closest to Derek and is therefore having to share the couch with the two making disgusting kissy sounds every minute or so since they’re the newest couple.

“You should probably just find someone to date Stiles, it’ll probably help with… everything.” Lydia says as if a relationship will help with his ‘everything’.

“Lyds, he’s already fucking someone, and it still hasn’t helped anything. There’s simply no hope for him.”

Stiles freezes and stares at Jackson with wide eyes.

“Yeah, we smell it on you all the time. Why don’t you just bring whoever it is with you to lunch? We’re dying to know who could possibly be fucking…”

Stiles’ heart is beating too hard and he’s sweating all over. He abruptly stands, interrupting Erica, and has to practically run to the bathroom before he’s throwing up the pizza he’d eaten at the beginning of the meeting.

 _How could they know? How long have they known?_ He feels his lungs constrict painfully as he heaves. _What’ll happen if they find out who it is? What would they think of him if they found out his own stepmother has been raping him for the better part of a year? They’d be disgusted and then his dad would find out and everything he’s worked for will be worthless. All those hours being violated over and over again._

His head is pounding but he can’t catch his breath. He’s going to pass out. Distantly, he hears a crack as something that isn’t meant to move is forced to move and suddenly there are hands, strong hands, pulling him away from the toilet and against a strong chest. Someone’s talking but he can’t hear them over the buzzing in his skull.

A solid pressure compresses his chest, forcing the air out of his lungs and as soon as it lets up he instinctually takes a breath in. Again, the hand compresses his chest to force the air out and once it lets up he gasps in another breath. There are low words being mumbled into his ear and he’s finally able to catch the tail ends of some of them.

“…at’s it. Breathe… Stiles… n and out. Again. In and out. Keep going.”

It’s Derek. His bulky body is pressed up solidly to his where he’s sitting on the floor of the bathroom. There are tears streaming down his face but at least he’s begun breathing on his own. Derek keeps giving him instructions on how to breathe and he focuses on the rumble of the words in the chest behind him as he speaks each word lowly into his ear. Eventually he collapses his entire weight into Derek and just sits there shaking and pulling in deep breaths until he feels mostly in control of himself.

“I need a drink.” He rasps out, his throat raw from throwing up, the panic attack, and the crying. “Shit, I’m a fucking mess. Sorry about your bath mat.” Stiles mumbles as he sees he’d missed the toilet again in his panic when he’d thrown up.

“It’s replaceable.” Derek says calmly.

Stiles nods and shakily moves out of Derek’s personal space as much as he can in the small bathroom. “I think I’m gonna take a little bit more time in here before going out there.”

“The others have already left, it’s just you and me.”

Stiles breathes a sigh of relief before realizing his breath is probably vomit scented and Derek has a super sniffer. Stifling a groan, he hefts himself up and flushes the toilet before leaning over the sink to rinse his mouth out. Derek quietly grabs the soiled mat and pulls open the cabinet to set a small bottle of mouthwash on the counter beside Stiles.

“Use as much as you want. I’ll take care of this real quick.”

Stiles nods and gratefully grabs the mouthwash. He swishes and gargles and spits at least a dozen times before turning to the toilet to clean up the rest of his mess with the cleaners beneath the sink. Once it smells only of bleach and mouthwash does he exit the bathroom. Derek’s sitting on the couch with his book in his hand, but it doesn’t look like he’s reading it at all. Stiles clears his throat and gingerly sits in the love seat a good five feet away from Derek.

“Uh, thanks for the, uh, help and taking care of the mat and dealing with that shit. Sorry for losing it like that. The, um, others… uh, do… did you know?” he asks shakily.

Derek lowers the book and gives him a single, solid nod. Stiles blows out a breath and puts his head into his hands, not knowing what to do about this situation. He could try and lie about it but lying to werewolves is nearly impossible when they’re a literally designed to sniff out every lie they’re told.

“Do you… know… who it is?”

Derek’s brow furrows and there’s hesitation before he shakes his head.

“Do you _think_ you know who it is?” Stiles can’t help but ask.

“Stiles, if you don’t want anyone to know, all you have to do is tell them to mind their own damned business.”

“But…what if… they find out?”

Derek puts the book down beside him and leans forward a bit towards him. “Stiles, you only smell of pack and your dad and stepmom, but you also smell like sex. If they wanted to know, they’d find out pretty quickly.”

“By sex do you mean, like, my own masturbation?”

Derek shakes his head, “No, there’s a difference between masturbation scents and sex scents, different pheromones and chemicals. You smell like you’ve had sex with a female, but I can’t identify that female because you smell so much like pack and your family.”

Stiles’ heart thuds hard in his chest as he nods. “Ok, uh, good, I guess. I don’t… I don’t want anyone finding out.”

Derek’s eyebrows go from furrowed to raised in concerned peaks real quick.

“Stiles… is everything alright?”

Derek asks the question slowly and deliberately and Stiles forgets to breathe as he stares almost in horror at Derek. And that’s all that Derek needed to see because he’s at Stiles’ side in a second.

“Stiles, is someone _forcing_ this on you? Is that why you don’t want them finding out who it is?”

Stiles can feel the edges of that panic again and he doesn’t think he can handle another panic attack so soon after having one.

“Stiles, breathe, it’s alright, I’m not going to ask who it is, I just need to know if you’re alright. Take a deep breath in.”

Derek puts a hand to his chest again and coaches him through a couple more breaths before Stiles can speak again.

“I can’t… I can’t answer that. Derek… I can’t.” he whispers.

“Then I want you to try and answer me this. Are you safe?”

Stiles hesitates in his answer because there are so many different ways to answer a question like that. “I, uh, we, they use a condom if that’s what you’re asking.”

Derek nods. “Ok, that’s good at least. Stiles, if you _ever_ need me to come and get you out of a situation, just text or call me and I will be there. Do you understand? If you need help, _ask_ for it.”

Stiles feels like he could cry but he takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, ok. Just… you can’t tell anyone. _No one_. Especially my dad. My dad absolutely cannot hear about this. Can you make sure the others know? Just, don’t mention any kind of sex, ever, around my dad.”

Derek immediately nods, “I’ll make sure they know.”

“Ok. Thanks. I guess I should go now. If I’m home late even one more time I’m going to be grounded for a month.” Stiles grumbles and grabs his things.

Derek walks him not just to the door but rides with him in the elevator and out to his Jeep and makes sure he’s on his way safely until Stiles can’t see him in his rear-view mirror anymore and feels just the slightest bit of weight lift in his heart. He hadn’t expected that from Derek of all people but he’s glad that now he has at least one person to rely on if things get too bad.

~

When he gets home his father is waiting for him and he breathes a huge sigh of relief as he pulls his Jeep up to the curb and cuts the engine. As he hops out his dad makes his way over to him and when he gets closer Stiles is scared to see that he’s dressed in full uniform.

“Hey pops, where are you going so late at night?”

“Sorry kiddo, I know you just got home, but I got called in a bit ago. I wanted to wait to say goodnight to you before I headed off. Make sure to do your homework and go to bed at a reasonable time, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear dad.”

“Alright. Don’t make too much trouble for Lou Anne. I love you.”

“Love you too dad.” Stiles manages to claw the words out of his throat.

His dad gives him a hug goodnight and leaves in the cruiser not one minute later, leaving Stiles to trudge up the driveway and into the waiting arms of his stepmother.

“Welcome home, Stiles. I’ve missed you. Now, give mummy a kiss.”

Stiles shuts down as his lips are forced to hers and those awful, familiar hands caress his arms where they hang limply at his sides.

“Good boy, now, go upstairs and wait for mummy in your room like I’ve taught you.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything, just takes the stairs one step at a time and sets his backpack down at the foot of his bed before slowly taking off his hoodie, then his flannel, one button at a time, then his t-shirt. He slowly undoes his belt, followed by his shoes, then socks, then his jeans. It takes him a couple deep breaths to step out of his underwear and then he’s standing beside his bed completely naked and facing away from the door, so he doesn’t have to see Lou Anne when she finally comes through the door.

 

**_ WARNING: Things get pretty graphic from here until the next bold text, so please, please skip if you can’t read rape or if it’s triggering for you. _ **

“Oh Stiles, you’ve really grown this past year. Your shoulders and your waist, mm.” she drawls, and he’d heave if he had anything left in his stomach.

She draws her hands up his sides and around his torso to his chest, pushing her equally bare breasts against his back as she fondles his pectorals before slipping down to draw her sharp nails through the bush of his pubes.

“Now, let’s get you ready for mummy.” She practically purrs, and Stiles knows what’s coming next.

She forces him to lay down on the mattress face up and he stares blankly up at the ceiling as she starts playing with his cock, toying with it and mouthing at it, trying to make him hard. But he just doesn’t feel it. It doesn’t matter that there’s something touching the most sensitive part of him, he’s become too numb to feel any sort of pleasure from that appendage.

“Aw, hunny, what’s wrong? Having some performance issues? Don’t worry, mummy will fix it.”

She starts sucking in earnest, but it doesn’t matter. He’d been taking longer and longer to get hard lately and he’d stopped orgasming sometime along the way, he’d just go soft after she finally stopped touching him, until, finally, it seemed like he’d finally broken.

She gets increasingly frustrated as his cock stays stubbornly soft. Even when she starts yelling at him, smacking him and “spanking” him for being a “bad boy” he just doesn’t care.

“You really want your daddy to be miserable that badly?”

Stiles sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know why I can’t get hard. I just can’t. Nothing’s working.”

“Then why don’t you try and masturbate yourself? I want to see you get yourself nice and hard for mummy.”

Stiles obediently takes himself in his hand but even as he jacks himself, falling into a natural rhythm, there is nothing, not a single lick of pleasure.

“Sorry mummy, I’m not getting hard. I’m sorry for being a bad boy.” He says in a monotone, dutifully calling her what she likes to be called.

“Oh, baby boy, maybe you’re just tired. You can use your hands today instead of your poor dick.”

Stiles obeys and allows her to use his hands however she wants and suppresses the urge to cry or throw up at the disgusting feelings of her using him until orgasm. She leaves him with a kiss to the forehead and he’s left with a slick, wet hand and a filthy body.

 

**_ Alright, the graphic parts are done now, it’s safe to read from this point on. _ **

It takes him less than a second to race to the bathroom before using his unsoiled hand to turn the water on as hot as it’ll go and jumping in before the water even heats up so he can try and wash as much of this nightmare away as he can. He scrubs his hands and his dick and everywhere she touched and kissed. The water turns from cold to raging hot and he stays under the spray even after it fades back into cold. It isn’t until he realizes he’s shivering that he finally climbs out of the shower, scrubbed raw with his skin pink and red. Toweling off, he trudges back to his room, throws open the window despite it being late winter still, to try and let the smell of the room dissipate. Then, tugging on multiple layers of clothing he curls up into his closet cocoon to try and make it through the night.

~

After that, it gets surprisingly easier now that he’s mostly numb. Lou Anne isn’t too happy with the fact that he can no longer get hard, but her violence is easier to deal with than her previous violations. Now, instead of hickeys and nail marks, it’s bruises and scratches that he has to hide which is actually easier. He still hates having to get naked but at least it feels less disgusting.

Derek is always there, sitting next to him, at pack meetings or any time they gather for something. It’s Derek who makes sure he’s alright and, after that first week of not contacting him, Derek makes Stiles send him a text every night to make sure he’s doing ok. Scott’s so busy with Allison and now _Isaac_ that he has absolutely no time for Stiles. It kind of hurts, watching his best friend ditch him like that, but he’s a little proud of his friend for actually being happy.

Well, it _had been_ getting easier, until Lou Anne decided to up her game with adult toys. Unfortunately, vibrators were a sensation that he’d never felt before and therefore made him hard, which she enjoyed immensely.

After one particularly rough night, where he’d spent most of the night tied up too tight, unable to move with a vibrator strapped to his dick, he breaks down and calls Derek to come and get him.

“P-please, Derek,” he sobs into the phone, “I need you. C-come get me… please.”

It only takes Derek twelve minutes to get there rather than the twenty it should’ve, and Stiles is waiting for him with a packed overnight bag, his backpack, laptop, and chargers for his phone and computer on the front steps of his porch. Derek doesn’t say anything as he tosses his stuff into the back seat and climbs into the front seat, buckling in for the ride back to the loft.

Derek still doesn’t say anything until they’re finally in the privacy in the loft and Stiles has set his stuff down on and beside the couch.

“Are you alright? You smell hurt. Where are you hurt?” Derek asks, pushing into Stiles’ space as he searches for wounds.

“I need to borrow your bathroom.” Stiles whispers. “I need to shower.”

“Of course.”

Derek steps back and allows Stiles to gather some clothes from his bag before staggering into the bathroom. Derek hears the water start but then there’s also the soft sounds of Stiles sobbing, of him fumbling slightly with Derek’s soap and then there’s the sound of rough scrubbing, like Stiles is trying to peel his own skin off. And Derek can’t do anything but wait until cold water forces Stiles out and then for him to dry off and get changed into clean clothes.

Finally, Stiles steps out and Derek calmly waits for him to walk over and put his dirty clothes next to his overnight bag before speaking.

“Stiles, I need to know if you’re alright.”

Stiles sways where he stands before shaking his head, hanging it in shame.

“Ok, it’s ok not to be alright, just let me see where you’re hurt.”

Stiles slowly approaches him and carefully pulls up one sleeve and then the other to reveal dark purple bruises wrapping multiple times around his wrists and then he lifts his shirt to reveal more dark purple markings on his torso, obviously made by tying rope way too tightly around his body, and in some places the skin is so raw it looks like it started bleeding and then scabbed over meaning rope burn. He vaguely gestures to his legs and upper arms where Derek gathers that there are more of the same markings. Scattered amongst the rope marks are various other bruises and scabs and scars that look older.

Slowly, telegraphing his every movement, Derek places a large, warm hand over the bare skin of Stiles’ side, making a small shushing sound when he whimpers and begins to draw the pain out of Stiles’ body. Stiles lets out a small sigh and seems to collapse in on himself once Derek is finally done and allows himself to be guided gently onto the cushions of the sofa beside Derek.

“Stiles, look, I know you’ve had a rough day today, so I’m not going to say anything, but tomorrow I’m going to suggest that you stay here for a while, away from whoever did this to you. Alright?”

Stiles slowly nods and just kind of lists to the side until he’s laying completely down on the couch, exhausted. Derek gets up and pulls his feet out straight before tossing the warm blanket that usually hangs over the back over the couch over Stiles. Exhausted, Stiles falls into a quick slumber, but the haunted look doesn’t really leave his tired face, Derek is sad to see.

~

The next morning Derek is awake before Stiles and makes eggs, bacon, and toast for two while he waits for him to wake up. It doesn’t take long with the delicious smells wafting through the open loft and soon there’s the soft sound of socked feet padding over the hard floor towards the kitchen.

“Smells good.” Stiles mutters as he pulls a chair out from the counter to climb into it.

“Do you want anything for your eggs? Hot sauce, ketchup, syrup?”

Stiles nods, “Syrup would be good. It goes great with bacon too.”

Derek nods and grabs the syrup for Stiles and hot sauce for himself. He lightly seasons his eggs and bacon with the sauce and watches in half amusement, half disgust as Stiles practically drowns his entire breakfast in the sticky syrup. The talking can definitely wait until after they’ve finished their meal, so Derek eats at a sedate pace while Stiles tucks in.

Once they’ve both finished and cleaned their plates, leaving the dishes to dry on the rack, Derek takes them back to the living room and sits them both down onto the couch.

“Alright, I know you probably don’t want someone to interfere with whatever’s happening, but I am worried about what’s happening. I want you to stay here until something can be done about this situation. Any way you can convince your dad to stay here, I want you to try. Say you’re at Scott’s studying or Isaac’s practicing for lacrosse, or hell, even Jackson’s with whatever you can come up with, I just want you with someone in the pack until we can sort this out.”

Stiles is already shaking his head. “Derek, I’m really thankful that you’re so concerned but, this isn’t something that’ll just get better or go away, this isn’t something that can just be solved. The person doing this holds the happiness and safety of my family by a thread and one wrong move, they could plunge my dad back into that bitter misery he’d been in for years after my mom died. I can’t watch him go through that again, I just can’t. He deserves to be happy.”

Derek is frowning but says, “What about your stepmom? Would she be able to help?” Derek pauses as Stiles’ heart stutters and the acrid, bitter scent of fear and panic assault his nose and his eyes widen and his mouth drops open in shock. “Oh.”

Stiles cringes into himself at that one little word. If Derek hadn’t known before, he knows now. “It just won’t work Derek.” He whispers.

“No, this is something that definitely _will_ work. Stiles, your father loves you more than the _world_. If you think even for a second that he wouldn’t gladly throw that bitch in jail for what she’s doing to you, you’re so damn wrong. I have seen you and him together, I knew you before the fire, before I moved away, and there is _nothing_ he won’t do for you.”

“How the hell do you know that? You haven’t seen him around her, the way he looks at her like she’s his world, like she hung the fucking _moon_! The way his eyes light up when he sees her or the breath he takes when she walks into the room. He _loves_ her, the way he loved mom. I could _never_ take that away from him! If I don’t do this, she’ll destroy everything, all the happiness my dad has built.” Stiles yells at him.

“You’re important too Stiles!” Derek yells right on back. “You don’t think I know what it’s like? What you’re going through? I know _exactly_ what you’re going through! I just wish someone had told me what the fuck I needed to hear before everything came crashing down around me!”

“You have no _idea_ what I’m going through Derek! She is _decades_ older than me and married to my _father_!”

“ _Kate_ was decades older too! And she was a _hunter_!” Derek yells in his face and that finally stops Stiles cold.

“What? What does Kate have to do with our conversation?”

Derek pulls in a breath, trying to find it in him to tell Stiles what he so desperately needs to hear, to know that he’s not alone and that Derek’s not just spouting this out of nowhere.

“I was 15, my first girlfriend, Paige, had just died. I was scared, lonely, and hurting. Kate was older and beautiful, and I thought I was in love. Turns out she used me, raped me, in order to burn my family alive in my home. If I had just trusted someone back then with that secret, everything could have been avoided. My family would be alive, but instead I’d kept that secret all to myself, let this older woman trick me, until my world fell apart. Stiles, I was a teenager, she was an older woman, she raped me, I kept that secret, and a part of me died.”

Derek is shaking but trying to hide it, trying to push away those bitter, horrid memories and feelings out of the way so that he could get the truth across to the boy who was hurting in front of him right now. Stiles is just kind of staring at him, eyes wide and hurt looking but _understanding_.

“Derek…” he croaks, hurting for the man who was always so strong but is so hurt in front of him.

“When I say that your father will do literally anything for you, I mean it. You have proof, it’s written all over your body, and I’m sure if she were to be asked for DNA they’d find yours too. Stiles, you are _not_ alone in this. Talk to your father.”

The pain and bitterness rise again in Stiles, “But his happiness…”

“Stiles, you _are_ his happiness. You’re his child before she’s his wife. There are other women out there, but there’s only one of you.”

Derek doesn’t know how he’s able to say all of this when he himself never believed a single lick of it when he was told almost the exact same things. He hates seeing the strong kid he knew reduced to this sad, defeated creature in front of him. But he understands it like he’s never understood something before and he hurts for this boy, wants to wrap him up and shield him from the world. Except, there in his chest, where he expected to feel the fatherly tenderness for this kid, instead feels this fierce protectiveness that’s far more primal, growling at the thought of anyone touching him. It’s a strange and scary feeling that he immediately shoves down because that is the exact opposite of what’s needed right now.

“If you need someone to go with you, I’ll go and vouch for everything you say. I’ve seen the wounds, known of your pain for a while now, but didn’t realize how bad it was. I’m sorry about that.”

Stiles just looks at him like he’s crazy, “Are you kidding me? You have nothing to be sorry for. Actually, I should be the one apologizing for dragging you into this shitstorm. I just… I don’t know how to do this. I don’t think I can even look my father in the eye after everything that’s happened between me and his wife.”

“No, nothing has happened between you and her, she’s _forced_ this on you against your will. Nothing _happened_.”

Stiles nods, knowing that much. “I just… need some time.”

“Of course, these things always do. But I want you to stay here until you decide what to do next.”

Stiles nods again before giving Derek a small smile, “You know, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk, especially to me. Usually it’s just ‘shut up, Stiles’ or ‘I’m gonna rip your throat out, Stiles, with my teeth’.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “Yeah, well, there are important things that needed to be said. Don’t worry, I’m done now.”

“No, no, no! By all means, keep talking! I enjoy it.” Stiles smiles a little more genuinely at Derek who just rolls his eyes again and turns towards the TV he was wrestled into getting by Erica, Isaac, Scott, and Stiles.

The argue on what to watch for a few minutes before settling on some super hero movie and settle comfortably against the couch together. Honestly, Stiles feels a lot better now that he’s gotten a lot of that suppressed pain and hate out, knows that Derek has gone through it too even though he would never, ever wish that upon anybody, but it’s nice knowing that there’s someone to talk to that actually knows what they’re talking about.

~

Stiles spends three days there, contacting his dad only to tell him that he’s fine but needs a couple days to hang out with his friends then turning his phone off. Derek doesn’t push him beyond a small reminder each day and is amicable whenever Stiles needs to talk about something or get something off his chest. Slowly, the knot comes undone in Stiles’ chest the more time he spends with Derek. That painful, empty numbness is finally starting to recede the more he accepts that there’s something he can do about this, that it doesn’t have to be this way forever.

Derek too, has taken a liking to having Stiles around his loft. The more time he spends there the less he smells of other people, specifically of his stepmother and of sex and pain, and more like Derek himself and faintly of the lingering scents of pack. It makes that primal part of him, deep in his belly, ache as it slowly rises to the surface. When Stiles starts wearing his clothes because he didn’t pack enough it’s like Derek is drowning in the scent of _them_ of _DerekandStiles_ and he wants to smell of nothing but that for a very, very long time. But, still, now is _not_ the time to be dwelling on these unimportant things.

So, on the evening of the third day, when Stiles informs him that he’s going to try and talk to his father, he forces away that reluctant part of him that doesn’t want to let go of Stiles and revels in the relief he feels from hearing the confidence in Stiles’ voice for the first time in a very long time.

“If you need me I’ll be nearby, only a couple streets down. Yell for me and I’ll be there.” Derek says once he’s pulled up to the Stilinski residence with Stiles and his things.

He refused to let Stiles do this alone when he heard the hesitance and smelled the fear as Stiles talked about going there by himself. Now Stiles was exuding fear but also courage.

“Ok, I’ll yell if I need anything and I’ll just text you if everything goes well.”

Derek nods and waits for Stiles to get all of his things out and start walking up the driveway before pulling away and onto the next street. From there, it’s easy to tune his hearing into the Stilinski household, especially at this time of night.

“Stiles Stilinski, where the hell do you think you’ve been? I’ve been trying to call you for three days. _Three days_ , Stiles!” his father yells at him as soon as he steps through the door.

Stiles calmly lets his father yell at him before, in a quiet voice, says, “Dad, I need to talk to you.”

Stiles doesn’t look up to see if Lou Anne is nearby but doesn’t care if she is. Instead, he heads for the stairs, his father staring after him in anger and confusion but when Stiles doesn’t stop or look back he follows angrily up the stairs after him.

“Stiles, where _were_ you? I was scared sick, Lou Anne was scared sick.”

Stiles closes the door after his father and puts his bag quietly aside and starts removing his clothes piece by piece. His father sputters for a few seconds until he gets his flannel buttons undone and slides it off and his arms are revealed with the still fading rope burns and bruises. Suddenly his father is there at his side, grabbing hold of his hand and raising it to see his arms better.

“Stiles, what the hell?! What happened?! Did someone kidnap you and force you…”

“Dad, no. These happened three days ago, while you were at work and I was home from school. I…” Stiles chokes a little on his words, his throat closing as he thought about how to say everything he needs to. “Dad, do you remember a few months after you first brought Lou Anne home when I asked you if it was normal for a woman to touch her boyfriend’s son, and you said it was perfectly fine? Well, it wasn’t fine, dad.”

Stiles whispers out his words as best he can, fighting his tears as he tugs off his t-shirt to show his dad the fading bruises, the scabbed over scratches, and the silvery scars that now decorate his torso.

“I didn’t know what to do. You just…you love her so much, but… dad, she…” Stiles wraps his arms around his body and moves away from the bed, giving it a look full of hate and fear, “I didn’t want to ruin your happiness, but dad, it hurts.”

Stiles can’t look at his father, but he knows the look of horror must be there as he says, “Stiles…you-you’re saying that Lou Anne did this to you? Has _been_ doing this to you? Why…wha… I don’t know if I can believe this.”

Stiles looks up sharply, fear and horror in his eyes at the words of disbelief coming from his father. “Dad…you don’t… believe me?”

“No, Stiles, that’s not… I just… it’s hard to believe because I didn’t even have an ounce of suspicion. How could this have been happening for, what, a year now? Without me knowing? I’m the damn Sheriff, these things just… I would have known… but you… Were you tied up? Is that how you got those marks?”

Stiles feels the tears as the drip down his face as he nods. “Lou Anne keeps those things in her shoe box in the back compartment of the guest bedroom closet.” He whispers.

His dad is off in a flash, leaving Stiles feeling small and scared and so utterly alone. His father doesn’t believe him. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. So, he just reaches down and pulls his shirts back on, zipping up his hoodie and going to his drawers to grab some clean clothes that he’s in the middle of stuffing them into his backpack when his father comes back.

“There was… Stiles, what are you doing? Do you think you’re going somewhere?”

Stiles sniffs but doesn’t look at him as he continues stuffing things into his bag. “You don’t believe me and I’m not staying in a house with that psychopath. I’m going to a friend’s house who knows what’s happening and who’ll let me stay there as long as I need.”

“No, you are not, Stiles, damn it, look at me! I believe you!”

Stiles’ head snaps up at his father’s bellow and he turns sharply to look at him and more importantly at the black box he’s holding in his hands. The pure revulsion and horror of seeing that box has him physically flinching back and his father steps back a bit to set it down on the floor.

“I already looked in it and Lou Anne isn’t in the house. I’m going to call out an APB on her car, then I’m going to arrest her for statutory rape, endangerment of a minor, and just about every single crime I can possibly think of to pin against her.”

Stiles lets out a small sob of relief as his father finally looks at him for the first time in forever. His father catches him as he collapses forward into him, holding him and shushing him as he cries for himself and for his father and their family that has once again fallen apart.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined your happiness again.” Stiles sobs and his father just holds him tighter.

“Oh Stiles, no, nononono, this is not your fault. Stiles, you’re my son, you are my everything. _I’m_ the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry you had to go through this and I didn’t even see it, I had no clue. I’m so sorry you thought you had to go through that for me to be happy. Stiles, I wish you had told me sooner, I’d have never, _ever_ let her get away with it. She _will not_ get away with it. Stiles, son, look at me, look at me.”

Stiles’ face is grabbed gently by his father and made to look him in the eye despite the tears still falling down his cheeks.

“Stiles, _you_ make me happy. You do. Always. Don’t you _ever_ doubt that for a second.”

Stiles nods and is immediately crushed to his father’s chest again as they sort of collapse to the floor, holding one another. They stay there, holding each other until there’s a quiet knock on the wood of Stiles’ door and they both turn to see Derek Hale standing there awkwardly.

“Uh, Derek Hale. What are you doing in my house?”

“Sorry, sir, I uh, I was… Um…”

“Dad, this is the friend I was talking about who would’ve let me stay however long I needed. He helped me through this. Derek, what’s going on? Is everything ok?”

“Um…your stepmother, uh, Lou Anne, I couldn’t help but think it was suspicious when she ran out and took off, so I chased her and, well, she’s sitting in the living room, zip tied to the couch leg.”

Stiles can’t help but smile at his friend fondly at his over the top way of doing things.

“Yeah, thanks, that was a good call. Dad, I think now would be a good time to arrest her and read her every crime you can possibly pin against her.”

“Right, thank you Derek. Can you stay here with Stiles while I go arrest the woman I am going to divorce the second I get a chance? I’m going to need you to come down to the station in a little while, so we can get your injuries photographed for evidence and then we’ll need a full report made.”

“Of course, sir, I’ll make sure he gets there alright and I can stay as long as I’m needed.”

“You might be there forever then. I don’t really wanna do this alone.” Stiles grumbled, his cheeks flaming hot in embarrassment at his weakness but making his fear no less real. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through the entire statement without breaking down.

“Thanks Derek. Stiles, I’ll see you in a bit. I love you, never forget that.”

His father gives him a kiss on the forehead before grabbing the box and probably putting back into the guest bedroom closet to take evidence photos of later. As soon as he’s gone Stiles deflates and leans against Derek for support which he gratefully gets in the form of an arm around his torso, keeping him upright and pressed against Derek’s side.

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you for helping me like this.” Stiles says a little guiltily.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Dude, I totally do because I’m going to keep asking you for help and support and being generally obnoxious and you’re going to get so sick of me.”

“Not going to happen Stiles. Just, take a breath and listen when I say that, I’m the alpha, you can always rely on me.”

Stiles can’t help a small snicker as he says, “Somehow, you managed to assert your alpha-ness into a situation like this. It’s pretty impressive, actually.”

“Shut up, Stiles.” Derek says, but he doesn’t mean it.

~

It takes a month for the divorce to go through because there was no way in hell John was going to wait through any unnecessary processing periods while he was still married to the bitch who raped his son. Two weeks after that comes the trial which Stiles testifies at and John is allowed to testify at because he’s no longer the husband of the defendant. And just like that Lou Anne Rivers, previously Stilinski, is in jail for the rest of her life for statutory rape, adultery, battery, sexual assault, aggravated assault, extortion, child pornography (she’d taken a single photo of him nude), blackmail, fornication, and psychological trauma of a minor. She is never, ever breathing a breath of fresh air ever again.

Stiles collapses in relief on top of Derek where he’s laying on the couch as soon as he arrives after the long, tumultuous three months of getting absolutely everything done that needed doing. He’d missed his birthday in all of the excitement too.

“Derek, I’m tired.” Stiles’ mutterings are muffled where he’s speaking into Derek’s chest.

“So, take a nap.”

“Ok.”

And Stiles does just that, not deterred one bit that he’s lying on the guy that used to hate his guts and who he used to hate. After the last four or so months they’d become closer than Stiles ever expected them to, in a way that Stiles didn’t think he could get with Scott. It was almost a private, just for them friendship that he wanted to call a relationship but was far too scared to do so. Derek treats him mostly the same as before, the same brow furrows, the same sharp call of his name when he is being particularly annoying, but now it’s accompanied by these small, private smiles that are just for him and with words that are gentle and kind and full sentenced conversations for when they’re away from the pack. After all, he’s the alpha, he has to command respect while also being completely reliable.

When he wakes up, it’s to Derek’s hand carding gently through his hair that’d grown out over the past few months and he would purr if he could, sort of like the sound that’s coming from the chest underneath him at the moment. He sighs and nuzzles against Derek, loving this feeling of calm safety that he can always find in Derek’s presence now that they’ve finally pushed past those last few barriers of awkward communication between them.

“Mm, Derek.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, just…happy. It’s a strange feeling.”

Derek grunts an agreement that makes Stiles smile.

“What if I said that I never want this feeling to go away.”

“I’d tell you that it never has to go away.”

Stiles smiles, his heart kicking up a little, “That sounded like a proposal.”

Derek’s chest rumbles and he says quietly, “Maybe it was.”

Stiles lifts his head slowly to look at Derek’s face where it’s looking down at him with an expression of happiness, gentleness, but also a bit of apprehension now. But Stiles just smiles and lets that beautiful warmth blossom in his chest at the thought of being with Derek.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

Derek’s smile is unexpectedly beautiful and takes Stiles’ breath away, so he slowly wriggles his way up until he can reach Derek’s face.

“I think we just became boyfriends. I’m not reading this wrong, am I?” he asks, but his voice is full of a confidence he didn’t know he had.

Derek nods and leans in that little bit to press the softest kiss to his lips which makes Stiles sigh in contentment and lets himself fall into the slowest, most gentle kiss he’s ever had.

“You know,” he says after they’ve parted, “I can honestly say I absolutely never saw this coming, but I’m glad it did. I hope you’re ok with waiting at least a year for anything except kissing to happen.”

“I’ll wait forever if I have to.” Derek mutters cheesily.

Stiles rolls his eyes, but he smiles, “That was lame and I hate that it works for me.”

“Of course it does, you’re lame.”

Stiles squawks and smacks at Derek, “No I am not! You’re lame!”

Derek smiles and presses another swift kiss to Stiles’ mouth to shut him up, but also because he really, really likes it.

~

1 year later almost exactly.

“You know, I have literally been counting the days and I don’t think I can wait another 3. I know I said to wait at least a year, but I was totally exaggerating and what I really meant was to wait until I was ready, and I am so beyond ready, dude! Come oooon, pleeease! You are literally making me beg right now!”

Stiles pulls on his boyfriend’s arm, trying to move him from the couch he’s slouched on, reading his book, and trying his hardest to ignore Stiles.

“Dereeeeeek! I want to have sex with you! We’ve done nothing but talk about it for months and now it’s all hyped up and I’m craving it and I want you to put that enormous dick you have hiding in your pants into my ass!”

Ok, so maybe Stiles is more than a little desperate. About two months after they started going out Stiles had been surprised when making out with Derek on the couch had resulted in a sensitive twitch of his dick. It’d been so long since that’d happened that he wasn’t quite sure if it’d been real or just his imagination since he’d been enjoying it so much. But nope, not even a day later, when they’d been making out, yet again, he’d felt his dick twitch in his pants where it was pressed up against Derek’s thigh.

After that, they’d done a lot of over the clothes exploring and a lot of talking before taking the next step to under the clothes touching. It’d taken another couple of weeks before Stiles was comfortable enough to get naked with Derek, but it was easier because Derek was so damn gentle and caring and never did anything that made Stiles feel uncomfortable or pushed into doing something he didn’t want.

So now, almost a year to the day, Stiles is grinding his palm against his dick where is stupidly hard from imagining getting fucked by Derek in many different positions many, many times. He huffs out a disgruntled sigh when all Derek does is flip a page and finally gives up.

“Fine, I’ll just go masturbate in your bed, using your sheets to clean up any mess I make. I’m gonna go shove at least three fingers up my ass and hope that by that time you’ll finally get your head in the game and come fuck me like I want.”

Stiles grumbles a little bit more under his breath as he starts to get up but then Derek’s yanking on his arm and pulling him on top of his chest and stretching the both of them out on the couch.

“Stiles, if I fuck you, I’m going to take my time. I’m going to touch you over your clothes, kiss you until you’re breathless, then slowly strip you out of all your layers. Then, once I have you panting and hard, spread out on my sheets I’ll get naked and lay over you, pressing every part of me against you. Then I’ll kiss you some more while I press my fingers into every sensitive part of your body just to feel you writhe underneath me. Only then will I get the lube, and have you spread your legs for me so that I can reach down and press my fingers against your ass and touch you until you open up for me. Once I’ve got my whole finger inside of you I’ll fuck you with it for a solid five minutes before adding another one. Then I’ll take another five before adding a third and you’ll be able to feel the difference between three of my fingers and three of yours. And once you’re nice and open and panting for me while your dick is leaking onto your belly, I’ll lift your legs up and fold them around my waist and I’ll finally get my dick inside you like we’ve talked about. Is that what you want?”

Stiles is panting, his dick stupidly hard in his jeans with precome drooling from the tip and staining through his underwear to his jeans on the outside. His face is flushed, and his entire body feels shivery just from hearing every dirty thing Derek wants to do to him.

“Yeah, I want that. I want that so bad, Der. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything this badly and you know how badly I wanted that double fudge cookie dough blizzard from Dairy Queen the other week.”

Derek smiles and breathes in a deep lungful of Stiles’ arousal. There’s no skip in his heart and no hesitation in his words or fear in his scent. He’s completely telling the truth.

“You’d better get on that bed then Stiles.”

Stiles’ heart beats wildly and a crazed, happy smile takes over his face as he jumps up, almost falls over the coffee table before he rights himself and is dashing towards the bed on the other side of the room. He barely gets to it before Derek is on him, doing exactly as he promised as he pushes his mouth against Stiles, stealing his breath with his tongue. Stiles moans into the contact and shoves his body against Derek’s, his hands fluttering all over Derek, pushing and pulling and grabbing everything he can. Derek’s hands flick over Stiles’ nipples through his shirt, press against his sides and shove the edge of his shirts up to get at the warm, bare skin beneath.

Their crotches are rubbing together deliciously, and Stiles pushes up into the friction as much as he can with the weight of Derek pinning him to the bed. There’s a low, constant growl coming from Derek’s chest that rumbles into his own. It makes him want to melt right into Derek until it feels like they are one and the same being.

“Der, come on, please, I want to feel you so bad. I want you inside me, hurry!” Stiles pants into Derek’s open mouth.

Derek growls, eyes flaring red and Stiles practically keens at the sight, so turned on by Derek’s loss of control.

“I’m going to do everything I promised. Just relax and let me.” Derek manages to get out without too much difficulty now that his mouth is starting to fill with fangs.

Stiles wants to beg some more but then Derek is ducking down and slowly peeling off his shirts until they’re scattered on the floor followed by the quick unbuckling of his belt which he slips through the belt loops and drops to the floor, before flicking open his button and tugging down the zipper until he can swiftly pull them down and off of Stiles’ long, pale legs. Now all that’s left is his underwear which are so sticky and wet right at the tip of his dick that Derek just has to lean down and put his mouth to. He sucks on the tip of Stiles’ dick lightly, pulling the stained fabric into his mouth and reveling in the musky, salty flavor which is all Stiles.

Above him, Stiles groans high in his throat and tosses his head back, hardly able to contain himself. He wants to come but he wants Derek inside of him first and he wants everything that Derek promised but he wants to _come_! It’s gloriously frustrating but also worth every second as he feels the wet warmth of Derek’s tongue trace his dick through his underwear before Derek’s finger hook into the elastic band and gently tug them down his legs and off, thrown out into the room to cool into an uncomfortable mess for later.

Derek pulls up and climbs over top of his legs to pull his shirt off over his head and the sight is so enticing he just has to get his hands on all of that. So, he does, and holy fuck is it the best thing ever. He’ll never get tired of touching Derek. The smooth, soft skin pulled taught over rippling, hot muscles which map out the most perfectly sculpted torso he’s ever had the luxury of laying his eyes on.

Derek’s eyes are hot as they lick over his skin before moving to the side to pull off his jeans and underwear in one go, tossing them, too, out into the room to be forgotten. Now they’re both naked, panting, and hard as rock, the tips of their dicks glistening with precome and flushed a dark red. As promised, Derek leans down and settles the entirety of his naked body atop Stiles’ and Stiles immediately arches up into the contact, putting as much of his bare skin against Derek’s and reveling in the sensation.

“Fuck, Derek, you feel so good. Want your fingers, your dick, need them inside me.”

“Yeah.”

And fuck, Derek’s voice has gone all low and gravely, like he was already fucked out and they haven’t even gotten to the fucking yet! Derek runs his hands all over Stiles’ body, opening his hands as wide as they’d go and grabbing onto as much of Stiles as he could get ahold of, his sides, his ass, his thighs, everything before kissing Stiles so thoroughly that he’s almost coming just from that.

“Derek, I’m not going to last much longer, I’ll probably be able to come untouched if you keep this up. Grab the lube.” Stiles manages to gasp out in warning.

Derek completely agrees because he too is on the verge of coming just from the small touches from Stiles and the pure, wanton noises he’s been making. Reaching out a hand he pulls open the small desk drawer beside his bed and grabs the tube of lube he keeps there, flicking open the cap and finally breaking the kiss to pull back and slick his fingers thoroughly until they’re dripping lube onto Stiles’ belly below him.

There’s no need for Derek to ask, Stiles is already spreading his legs for him and settles them onto his hips so that Derek has complete access to Stiles’ hole. At the first touch of Derek’s slick fingers to his taint, Stiles shivers excitedly and wriggles a little closer to Derek so his ass is more open for him. He’d be embarrassed if he weren’t so desperate.

Derek just smiles at how eager Stiles is and touches his first finger to the tightly furled hole, slowly massaging the muscle, relaxing it and getting Stiles used to his touch before carefully slipping the finger past the ring. It immediately clamps down on him but releases right after as Stiles takes a breath to steady himself. And, as promised, Derek spends a good five minutes driving Stiles crazy with just one finger, pushing it in, drawing it out, going half way in and out, giving short little fucks of his finger before pushing in deep, harder strokes. It’s driving Stiles absolutely crazy and he’s about to yell at Derek to just fuck him already when he feels the second finger slip in with the first finger as smoothly as if it were one finger. Oh, so that’s what the full five minutes was for.

And, well, the next five minutes were possibly even more agonizing than the first. With two fingers he can feel the tiny stretch, can now feel the difference in finger size between him and Derek and absolutely loves how Derek’s can reach deeper than his can, how they’re bigger and stronger. His body writhes as he’s fingerfucked, his dick never once going any softer from inattention. When the third finger is finally added Stiles’ body is covered in a fine sheen of sweat and he feels like he’s going crazy. Opening his eyes, he looks at Derek and feels another jolt of arousal at the intense look of open lust on Derek’s face where he’s concentrated on where his fingers are disappearing over and over into Stiles’ body.

“Fuck, Derek, you’re so fucking good for me. Your fingers, your hands, your mouth, your body, everything feels so good where it’s touching me. And when you talk to me and I can feel your chest rumbling when it’s pressed against me and feel your breath against my neck or my ear, oh fuck, it’s so fucking perfect!”

Derek lets out a rough growl as fucks his fingers in sharply, needing the preparation to be done now. It’s gotten to the point where even he has run out of patients. Stiles’ hole has grown looser around his three fingers so when he moves them around freely it doesn’t clamp down so tight it’s constricting. Slowly, he eases his fingers out but has his dick ready, already slathered with lube and Stiles still, finally 100% focused on what’s about to happen and greatly anticipating it.

When Derek’s dick first, finally breeches him, it’s overwhelming and exciting and just a little bit scary because this is _it_! And it’s so incredibly wonderful because he can feel the entirety of Derek’s length as it slides slowly into him, pausing every half in to give him time to adjust. When Stiles finally pries his eyes open to look at Derek he tightens a little at the sight of Derek straining to hold himself back from just thrust it all in like he must absolutely want to. His heart clenches in his chest and he gets a feeling that feels like ‘this is it, this is what I want for the rest of my life, holy shit, how did I get so lucky, I love him, but it would be cliché to say that right now.’ So instead of saying any of that he waits for Derek to be fully seated inside of him, and yeah, it’s a lot, and finally reaches up to grasp his neck and pull him down for a sweet, gentle kiss that seems so opposing to their sweaty, naked, panting bodies.

“Yes, Der, this is everything, you’re so good. You feel so good inside me. I can’t wait for you to fuck me so hard I’ll feel it next week.” He whispers into Derek’s mouth.

Derek groans hard like Stiles’ words have punched the breath right out of his lungs and pushes his hips against Stiles’, swiveling and letting them both get a feel for Derek’s dick inside of his ass. Finally, he starts making little thrusts, pulling back just a little only to shove it back inside, just a little at a time, and, yeah, it’s painful, but it’s so, so good. Stiles’ dick is still just as hard as it was in the beginning and as soon as Derek starts to pick up a little speed and things start gliding smoothly inside his ass, the tip starts drooling again, forming a pool on his belly which slides right down his side as soon as Derek really starts to pick up speed.

Soon, Derek’s thrusts are like pleasurable punches on his insides. It practically forces the breath from his lungs and the air leaves him in gasps and moans and little punched out sounds that he doesn’t know what to call them. Derek’s hips are slapping against his, the sound of their naked flesh hitting each other echoing filthily into the silent room around them and it drives Stiles absolutely wild. Derek’s sweat drips onto him and Stiles pulls him in for kiss after kiss but can’t seem to keep a consistent one going with how hard he’s being fucked.

Finally, Derek’s hips start losing rhythm, his thrusting losing control and soon the thrusts are hard, almost punishing if they didn’t feel so good. The extra bit of force has his dick twitching and there’s that pull from the base of his spine and he knows without a doubt that he’s going to come in the next ten seconds. And, sure enough, with very little warning besides a surprised grunt Stiles is arching under Derek and his dick is pulsing hard where it’s trapped between Derek’s stomach and his own, keeping the friction going long enough to draw his orgasm out through the aftershocks.

“Oh, fuck yes, Derek, so good for me. Are you going to cum inside me? Going to fill me up? Oh, I can’t wait to feel that, it’ll feel so good.”

And just like that Derek’s coming, hunching over Stiles and holding him tightly as he pounds into him, all rhythm gone, just primal fucking as his cock expends as deep as it can go into Stiles’ ass until finally there’s nothing left to come out and he just sort of collapses on top of Stiles, his dick still buried inside of him as it softens.

They’re panting hard, their skin so sweat soaked it’s darkened the navy-blue sheets around them anywhere they’ve touched until it looks almost black. Stiles is feeling shaky but the good kind of shaky like after a good, intense work out that got all the endorphins pumping, which is, well, exactly what happened.

“Holy shit Derek, that was amazing. Totally worth every second of waiting. I demand that we do that again as soon as I get some feeling back in my legs.”

Derek snorts against his neck and kisses up his skin to his cheek until he gets to his mouth. “How are you still able to speak?”

“Dude, do you not know me? All I do is talk. Maybe after two or three rounds of hard, amazing fucking like that I’ll just pass out and, yeah, you’ll have fucked the words right out of me.”

Derek chuckles again and pressing his lips against Stiles in a dozen of the gentle, soft kisses they both love so much.

“How about we take a nap and then we can think about going another round, what do you say?” Derek bargains.

Stiles pretends to think about it, but a yawn ruins his charade, so he just grins and nods. “Sounds good wolfman.”

They kiss once more, a long, drawn out kiss full of passion and promises that fill them both with warmth and happiness and all is good in the world. Finally.


End file.
